CHAPTER 10

Clearing for Action

A WELCOME REST

On 20 April TF-17 dropped anchor off Nukualofa on the north coast of Tongatabu. Waiting in the spacious harbor were the Bridge with fresh food, the Dobbin to repair travel-worn ships, particularly the hard-working destroyers, and hospital ship Solace. Two shipments of replacement tanks cured the Yorktown fighters’ fuel tank woes, and within a few days all nineteen VF-42 Grumman Wildcats were ready to fight. The rest of the air group numbered thirty-six SBD Dauntless dive bombers from Bombing Five and Scouting Five and thirteen VT-5 Devastator torpedo bombers. The delights of a genuine tropical South Seas island enticed weary sailors who had not been ashore for more than two months. A true town of three thousand inhabitants, Nukualofa was the capital of Queen Salote Tupou’s Kingdom of Tonga, a British protectorate. Fletcher met the British consul and arranged liberty for his crews. On a subsequent courtesy call, he drank coconut juice and reviewed the local militia. Picturesque sights and fresh fruit were plentiful, but the bluejackets discovered to their dismay that in one respect Tonga failed to live up to its familiar name of the “Friendly Islands,” when Queen Salote hid all the young women in the hills.1

Such an idyllic interlude could only be brief. Even before the Yorktown’s anchor clattered into Nukualofa harbor, Fletcher understood the serious threat in the Coral Sea. He learned on 21 April the 5th Carrier Division, carrier “Ryūkaku,” and a fresh cruiser division were bound for Truk. The next afternoon another Cincpac message declared, “Impending operations centering New Britain area will start very soon.” Fletcher was to rendezvous with TF-11 on 1 May (local time) at Point Butternut three hundred miles off the northwest tip of New Caledonia and command the combined force. The directive that Nimitz transmitted to Fletcher is worth quoting in full:

         An enemy offensive in New Guinea dash Solomon Area is at present indicated for first week of May probable primary objective Moresby. May eventually include three or four carriers [and] about 80 heavy bombers and same number of fighters at New Guinea and New Britain air bases. Your task [is to] assist in checking further advance by enemy in above area by seizing favorable opportunities to destroy ships shipping and aircraft. Cincpac will arrange coordination of Souwestpacfor and will keep you fully informed. Comsouwestpac [Leary] is requested to continue present dissemination intelligence that area, to keep MacArthur informed of Pacflt plans and operations and to inform me plans for his forces especially those which can support fleet forces. Reinforcement for Taskfor 17 at later date under consideration.

Nimitz requested Fletcher’s proposed task organization when it was convenient to transmit without breaking radio silence.2

Thus Nimitz provided Fletcher the “when” and “where,” but as Morison aptly stated, the “how” was up to him. Indeed Fletcher had contemplated the “how” ever since he began his solitary Coral Sea cruise. His basic mission was the same as before, to cover Port Moresby and the Solomons. With unlocated enemy carriers, a preemptive strike against Rabaul would have been foolhardy. Fletcher wisely decided to resume his stratagem of lying in wait beyond maximum air search range (seven hundred miles) of Rabaul and seek favorable opportunity to ambush, or at least intercept, enemy forces moving across the Coral Sea. He would return to Point Corn, 325 miles south of Guadalcanal, and carefully monitor air sighting reports to see what turned up.3

MacArthur’s Southwest Pacific Area had the greatest stake in ending the menace. To his chagrin he lacked the air and naval strength to deal with it himself but had to rely on Pacific Fleet carriers he did not control. To his credit MacArthur furnished Fletcher the bulk of his surface forces, the Anzac Squadron recently reorganized as Task Force 44 under Admiral Crace. The Chicago and Perkins were to join Fletcher on 1 May at Butternut, followed by Crace with heavy cruiser Australia and light cruiser Hobart on 4 May at a rendezvous 350 miles southwest of Guadalcanal. Rear Adm. Francis W. Rockwell’s Task Force 42 could deploy four old subs to the New Guinea–Solomons–Bismarcks in time to patrol behind enemy lines. They had to be very careful not to mistake TF-17 for the enemy, especially because Fletcher could give only a general idea where he expected to operate. He might need to shift without notice and requested to be apprized of the movements of the subs.4

Nimitz presumed that the earlier arrangement between Brown and Crace (and confirmed by Cominch) resolved the question of the U.S. carrier admiral being in charge, even if the Royal Australian Navy’s cruiser admiral was senior. However on 14 April, he was disturbed to read an Admiralty message declaring “U.S. authorities” agreed that when U.S. and British ships cooperated “tactically,” command would be “exercised by that officer of either power who is senior or if both officers of equal rank the one who is longest in rank.” That arrangement jeopardized Fletcher’s control over TF-17 with Crace present. Nimitz alerted King it was “essential” carrier task forces remain under U.S. flag officers. King asked MacArthur and Leary to confirm with the Australian Commonwealth Naval Board that the original Brown-Crace agreement was still in force. The Australians graciously assented. Nimitz informed his task force commanders on 26 April that the commander of Pacific Fleet carrier task forces would run the show “regardless of rank.”5

Of all the help MacArthur could offer Fletcher, none was more important than Lieutenant General Brett’s Allied Air Forces, Southwest Pacific Area. The long-range B-17 heavy bombers, B-25 and B-26 mediums, and RAAF Catalina flying boats were vital for early warning of enemy movements, particularly carriers. The bombers could also attack ships that ventured within strike range, as well as raid Rabaul and Lae. Fletcher could only count on their support in a strategical, rather than tactical sense. Brett’s command structure was in the process of being organized, and control and coordination was weak in the uneasy multinational partnership. Flyable aircraft were few, averaging twelve to fifteen B-17s, sixteen B-26s, nine to fourteen B-25s, ten RAAF Hudsons, and three RAAF PBYs. MacArthur defined the proposed air search areas. Coverage between Rabaul, the western rim of the central Solomons, and the Louisiades appeared acceptable if not ample, but flights over the upper Solomons and farther eastward depended on RAAF Catalina flying boats flying out of vulnerable Tulagi. Neither Nimitz nor Fletcher exercised any control over MacArthur’s searches. Nor did they have a clear idea how many aircraft MacArthur had and how many might be available for different missions. Fletcher took what he could get. The 29 March incident, where MacArthur’s flyers grossly erred in a sighting report, emphasized the limitations of shore-based search crews with regard to ship identification. That offered another good reason to keep TF-17 well to the south until such search contacts could be amplified. On 23 April Fletcher diplomatically praised the quality of Leary’s intelligence summaries. Nimitz concurred. He urged “every effort” be made to furnish “important aircraft reports immediately available to fleet TF commander concerned.”6

On 25 April Fletcher did take control of one search element “for operations [in] Coral Sea.” The Tangier tended a brood of six U.S. Navy PBY Catalinas based at Nouméa. Six more PBYs were slated to arrive about 3 May. From Nouméa they could search seven hundred miles to just short of San Cristóbal and Rennell islands in the extreme southern Solomons. That gave Fletcher only limited coverage of his eastern flank. He told the Tangier to use the new PBYs “for effective coverage Nouméa and New Hebrides Area north and northwestward to boundary Sowespac [Southwest Pacific] Area” and later specified a daily six-plane search from Nouméa northward to the Sowespac/Sopac border and the Santa Cruz Islands 350 miles southeast of Tulagi. Capt. Richard W. Bates’s 1947 Naval War College analysis correctly noted TF-17 lacked adequate air searches, not only of the central and eastern Solomons, but also to the east. However, “this lack of air coverage, particularly to eastward,” supposedly gave Fletcher no “undue concern.” Bates suggested the Tangier should have shifted north to Efate or at least sent her PBYs, although no seaplane base existed on site. In that way the PBYs could have searched beyond Tulagi and part of Malaita. Even better, Bates wrote, PBYs should have advanced to unoccupied Espíritu Santo in the northern New Hebrides 550 miles from Tulagi. That criticism of Fletcher originated purely from a clear understanding of the Japanese plan that Bates gained by hindsight. The Cincpac message that gave Fletcher control of the Tangier specifically mentioned the Coral Sea. Rightly or wrongly, the primary focus was there, not east of the Solomons. Given the focus on Port Moresby, it did not occur to Fletcher (or anyone else) that the prime danger to TF-17 might arise in the east.7

Another vital aspect of planning for battle in the Coral Sea concerned logistics. The Kaskaskia joined TF-17 on its way north to Tongatabu, while the old Tippecanoe was en route to Nouméa after refilling at Suva. They were sufficient for Fletcher’s normal needs until next oiler rotated south from Pearl, but Fitch’s TF-11 (not to mention Halsey’s TF-16) forced a radical change in the fueling schedule. Lacking an oiler of his own, Fitch would soon run short of fuel. Nimitz’s solution was to have the Kaskaskia top off TF-17 at Tongatabu, fuel TF-11 north of Fiji, and then return to Pearl. Fletcher asked permission for Fitch to retain the oiler until 1 May when both task forces could empty her. Cincpac declined. It was more important than ever for the Kaskaskia to refill at Pearl. Instead, Pearl provided the Neosho to cover Fletcher’s long-range requirements and scheduled five fleet oilers to reach Nouméa during the next five weeks: the Platte on 13 May, elderly Cuyama and Kanawha on 17 May, Kaskaskia on 23 May, and Neosho on 3 June. The Cuyama and Kanawha were to remain at Nouméa, while the Platte, Neosho, and Kaskaskia shuttled back and forth to the task forces as “feeders.” The Tippecanoe would serve as the emergency reserve. Even so, the situation would be extremely tight. To supplement fuel in the crucial area MacArthur graciously offered the cargo (105,500 barrels) of the chartered tanker E. J. Henry, due in Sydney on 7 May. She could reach Suva in Fiji on 4 May, “If she receives and complies with diversion signal,” or otherwise became available after arriving at Sydney.8

On 26 April Fletcher received Cincpac’s revised fueling schedule. Together the Neosho and Tippecanoe provided 153,000 barrels. The Neosho could begin fueling TF-17 at the end of April, and the Tippecanoe could handle TF-11 at the 1 May rendezvous, although she had to save fourteen thousand barrels for a convoy bound for Efate. At fifteen knots TF-11 and TF-17 together burned about 11,400 barrels per day. After about twelve days (28 April to 10 May), both oilers should be empty and both task forces full. High-speed steaming prior to 10 May, though, might cost an additional thirty-three thousand barrels and advance to 7 May when the oilers could be empty and the task forces full. These figures did not include Crace’s TF-44, which was to draw oil from its own Australian oilers, but which Fletcher might likely have to fuel himself. The E. J. Henry was to proceed to Nouméa after filling shore tanks at Suva and then restock the Tippecanoe on 10 May for Fletcher’s emergency reserve. Nimitz alerted Fletcher that the original TF-17 ships might leave for Pearl around 15 May, considerably easing fuel requirements. Fletcher did not need his staff logistical expert Thorington to explain how thin was his fuel supply. The loss of a single oiler or even delay could dislocate everything. At the end of April the slow Tippecanoe, on which much depended, would have to come out of Nouméa without destroyer escort. Fletcher believed it essential to top off his ships from the Neosho at every convenient opportunity. Later when not with the main body she was to alternate between Point Corn and Point Rye, 180 miles apart, and keep south of the line linking the two points. After refilling on 10 May the Tippecanoe was to return to the Coral Sea and likewise meander between Corn and Rye in place of the emptied Neosho. For reasons no one foresaw, the locations Fletcher assigned the oilers would prove a major blunder.9

TF-17 sailed from Tongatabu on 27 April and the next day met the Neosho and destroyer McCall three hundred miles southwest. On 29 April Fletcher celebrated his fifty-seventh birthday, the same day as Emperor Hirohito.10

PLANNING A CARRIER BATTLE

With the preliminaries out of the way, Fletcher concentrated on how actually to fight a battle against carriers. He had no experience in a real carrier-versus-carrier action, but neither did anyone else. Now with only a jerry-built air search umbrella, he must fight in the far southwest Pacific against a tough, battle-hardened opponent who could strike hard and fast from long range. The situation called for flexible tactics, strong resolution, and a great measure of luck. Fletcher was much encouraged that his close friend Jake Fitch had TF-11 with the Lexington. Fitch’s vast carrier experience and aviation staff gave Fletcher great confidence, and he would become TF-17 air task group commander to advise on search sectors, the size and composition of strikes, and suitable courses for flight operations.

Fletcher continued to exploit the rich expertise found in the Yorktown. Rear Adm. William N. Leonard, a former VF-42 pilot, recalled that Fletcher was at first an “eminence on high,” who gradually “warmed up” after the Samoa reinforcement and “took an interest in air operations.” Besides consulting Captain Buckmaster, a recent JCL inexperienced in air operations, Fletcher soon summoned pilots to flag plot to brief him about their missions. At first he consulted just the senior aviators, but soon junior pilots as well. Leonard never knew Fletcher to interfere beyond his rightful purview. “We had a happy flagship with no known flag meddling.” Fletcher especially relied on the counsel of air officer Murr Arnold and Curt Smiley, the group commander. Arnold became a de facto member of the staff, called upon often to discuss search sectors, the types and numbers of planes to be used, “in fact in all matters concerning flight operations.” Arnold felt uneasy, as he found himself advising the flag regarding orders to be issued to the Yorktown, in effect telling his own captain what to do. “Buckmaster didn’t particularly care for the set-up, and neither did I, but we had no choice.” It says much for Buckmaster’s strong character that he showed no outward resentment. Arnold judged Fletcher “a fine naval officer, very easy to work with and for, but [who] knew nothing about the capabilities and limitations of carrier aviation. He knew his limitations and was always more than willing to accept advice.” Arnold could not remember any occasion when Fletcher disagreed with his recommendations. Before rotating home on 25 April, Smiley also shared his aviation knowledge with the flag, but to a much smaller extent than Arnold. Buckmaster replaced Smiley with Lt. Cdr. Oscar Pederson, commanding officer of VF-42. Like Arnold, “Pete” Pederson became one of Fletcher’s most valued aviation advisors. Buckmaster controversially insisted that Pederson remain on board as fighter director officer (FDO) to control the combat air patrol instead of leading his air group in battle. “Very upset,” Pederson could do nothing about it. The absence of his leadership aloft would tell in the upcoming battle.11

Fletcher took note when Wilson Brown, at the urging of the Lex’s Capt. Ted Sherman, placed the Lexington and Yorktown in the same screen instead of following the standard policy of operating individual carriers well apart. Even though it put him out of a job at Lae-Salamaua, Fletcher approved. He understood the benefits of a concentrated fighter and antiaircraft defense, as well as easier coordination in attack. TF-17 Op-Ord 2–42 (1 May 1942) specified normal daylight (“S”) and night (“L”) cruising dispositions that incorporated all eight cruisers within the circular screen, whereas Brown had kept Smith’s and Crace’s cruisers in distinct task groups. In the event of air attack, TF-17 was to assume disposition “V” for Victor, with carriers deployed abreast within a circle of cruisers at the three thousand yards radius and the destroyers at four thousand yards. It was anticipated the carriers, because of their vastly disparate turning radius, would split up when maneuvering radically at high speed to avoid torpedoes and bombs. The cruisers and destroyers were to conform to their movements and form separate screens when necessary.12

Fletcher, the navy’s senior cruiser commander, sought opportunities for day and night surface actions. He seriously contemplated shifting his flag to a heavy cruiser to lead surface attacks but concluded communication and administrative facilities on board a cruiser were “entirely inadequate” for his needs. Instead he created two separate cruiser-destroyer task groups within TF-17. The Attack Group (TG-17.2) under Admiral Kinkaid (Comcrudiv Six) would include former TF-11 heavy cruisers Minneapolis and New Orleans, Rear Adm. Poco Smith’s Astoria, Chester, and Portland, and Captain Early’s five Desron One destroyers. Admiral Crace’s Support Group (TG-17.3) would comprise flagship Australia, Chicago, and light cruiser Hobart, screened by the Perkins (Cdr. Francis X. McInerney, Comdesdiv Nine) and Walke, on loan from Desron Two. Fletcher could detach either or both groups to operate independently of the main body. Fitch, the prospective air task group commander (CTG-17.5), received his own dedicated screen of four destroyers under Captain Hoover (Comdesron Two). This arrangement resembled prewar exercises, where carriers and plane guard destroyers often separated from the rest. Rear Adm. Edward C. Kalbfus, president of the Naval War College, described Fletcher’s operations order as an “excellent example of flexible organization.”13

Op-Ord 2–42 included an annex compiled largely from Cincpac and Comsowespacfor intelligence summaries. Japanese air strikes against Horn Island in northernmost Australia, Port Moresby, and Tulagi presaged an offensive against southeast New Guinea and probably Tulagi. Enemy land-based air might number 102 aircraft (forty-two fighters, thirty-six bombers, twenty flying boats, and four float planes), divided between Rabaul and Lae, with a fresh bomber group expected shortly.14 Air searches could extend to six hundred miles from Rabaul and from Shortland off the south coast of Bougainville. Gasmata on southern New Britain was in use as an auxiliary field. Fletcher predicted major operations might commence as early as 28 April. The suspected lineup was formidable: first-line carriers Shōkaku and Zuikaku of the 5th Carrier Division, each with sixty-three planes (twenty-one fighters, twenty-one dive bombers, and twenty-one torpedo bombers, including spares), and the new mystery carrier “Ryūkaku” (actually Shōhō), which on her own might wield eighty-four planes (twenty-one fighters, forty-two dive bombers, and twenty-one torpedo planes).15 The converted carrier Kasuga Maru (with possibly forty-five aircraft) was believed en route. The supporting cast could comprise two heavy cruisers (5th Cruiser Division), three light cruisers, sixteen destroyers, two converted seaplane tenders, a submarine tender and six subs, eight gunboats, and nineteen transports and auxiliaries. One Cincpac message hinted of two or three battlewagons south of Truk, likely to curb Fletcher’s appetite for surface actions. As of 1 May the Allies could pinpoint only a small convoy ninety miles south of New Ireland and bound either for Rabaul or directly into the Solomons. Otherwise the enemy had yet to reveal his hand.16

THE JAPANESE PLAN

By mid April Admiral Inoue’s South Seas Force planners at Truk fleshed out their MO Operation, the capture of Port Moresby and Tulagi. Assigned forces numbered 282 aircraft of all types (divided almost equally between carrier and shore-based) and sixty-five ships, including two big carriers, a light carrier, six heavy cruisers, three light cruisers, fourteen destroyers, six submarines, and a wide variety of auxiliaries. Most of the ships ended up in Admiral Gotō’s MO Attack Force conducting the actual invasions. His daunting task was to see the vulnerable, eight-knot troop convoy safely through the Louisiade Archipelago and assault Port Moresby on X-Day, 10 May. Inoue finally opted for Jomard Passage near the center of the barrier for a voyage of 840 miles from Rabaul. The greatest danger would occur in the two-day passage of 350 miles from Jomard to Moresby. Gotō formed MO Main Force from the four heavy cruisers of his 6th Cruiser Division, the light carrier Shōhō (twenty planes), and a destroyer to provide close cover for the invasion convoy while Admiral Kajioka’s 6th Destroyer Squadron comprised the actual screen.17

Inoue assessed land-based aviation at Port Moresby and northeast Australia as the gravest threat to the MO Operation. The Allies had maintained surprising pressure on Lae and Rabaul despite the big buildup of Japanese air units. Especially worrisome were the Townsville and Cooktown air bases in northeast Australia that could pummel the Moresby convoy on its final leg. Inoue deplored that these two air bases lay beyond the range of his bombers at Lae and Rabaul. Even worse, strong air reinforcements were believed on the way to Australia. Warships and subs in eastern Australia and New Zealand constituted the second hazard to the MO Operation. The big question was whether the Saratoga, the carrier believed to have struck Salamaua and Lae on 10 March, was still in the neighborhood. Inoue, for one, thought that unlikely. Thus Fletcher’s calculated tactic of masking his presence paid huge dividends in lulling the Japanese. Interestingly, Inoue dreaded land planes far more than those on carriers. A non-aviator, he nevertheless became the Japanese counterpart of Billy Mitchell, preaching the superiority of shore-based air.18

Inoue divided the MO Operation into three phases. To extend the air search network, Rear Adm. Marumo Kuninori’s Support Force—centered on the two old light cruisers of the 18th Cruiser Division—would build a series of forward seaplane bases progressing southeast from Rabaul through the Solomons. These initial bases would cover the capture of Tulagi by Rear Adm. Shima Kiyohide’s Tulagi Invasion Force, and the later ones assist in the capture of Port Moresby. Six flying boats and nine float planes would shift to Shortland on 28 April, followed on 2 May by float planes deploying to Thousand Ships Bay at the south end of Santa Isabel Island. Shima was to begin his assault on Tulagi before dawn on 3 May (X-7 Day), supported after sunrise by planes from the Shōhō in Gotō’s MO Main Force. Inoue expected weakly defended Tulagi to fall in one day.19

From the assets provided by Combined Fleet, Inoue created the MO Striking Force (MO Kidō Butai) under Rear Adm. Takagi Takeo, commander of the 5th Cruiser Division (Myōkō and Haguro). Takagi’s force also included Rear Adm. Hara Chūichi’s 5th Carrier Division (Shōkaku and Zuikaku with 124 aircraft), six destroyers, and the oiler Tōhō Maru. Takagi’s prime mission was to neutralize the Australian air bases and ease final passage of the Port Moresby convoy to the objective. Instead of squeezing the carriers through the narrow triangle of the northern Coral Sea and risk their speedy discovery, Inoue conceived an audacious left hook deep around the Allied flank. Proceeding south from Truk, the MO Striking Force was to pass far to the east of New Britain and parallel the eastern fringe of the Solomons. Following the fall of Tulagi, Takagi would pass westward between San Cristóbal and Espíritu Santo and dash across the Coral Sea. At dawn on 7 May, three days before the landing at Port Moresby, the carriers would surprise the Townsville air base and destroy its planes on the ground.20

As part of phase two, flying boats would advance to newly captured Tulagi on 4 May in time to cover Takagi’s MO Striking Force sweep around the southern end of the Solomons. On 5 May the search effort would divide. Tulagi-based flying boats would scan the seas around the MO Striking Force as it traversed the Coral Sea toward Townsville. Four submarines (the Eastern Detachment) were to deploy in a line about 450 miles southwest of Guadalcanal to watch for naval forces scurrying north from Brisbane. In the meantime, Gotō’s MO Main Force would double back to the north to shield the Port Moresby invasion convoy, set to sail on 4 May from Rabaul. By 6 May (X-4), a seaplane base was to be functioning at Deboyne in the central Louisiades, followed two days later by another at Cape Rodney east of Moresby. After neutralizing Townsville, Takagi would refuel southwest of the Solomons and take station in the center of the Coral Sea to maintain vigil for Allied naval forces that only then should be appearing. Inoue hoped the carriers could also raid Cooktown and Port Moresby itself. The landing force would assault Port Moresby on 10 May (X-Day). Following its capture, elements of Shima’s Tulagi Invasion Force and Takagi’s MO Striking Force were to cooperate with forces coming south from the Marshalls to seize Ocean and Nauru (the RY Operation) on 15 May (X+5). Situated west of the Gilberts and northeast of the Solomons, those two islands, virtually undefended, would fall whenever Japan chose to make the effort. Afterward, the 5th Carrier Division, the 5th Cruiser Division, and the Shōhō were to race north to the homeland in time to join the armada departing near the end of May for Midway.21

Inoue’s plan depended on Takagi’s carriers crippling Townsville’s air strength long before any Allied naval forces could react to the unfolding MO Operation. It is vital to understand that despite the assertions of Morison and other Western historians, Inoue never planned to use the Shōhō as “bait” for U.S. carriers that he supposed already lurked in the Coral Sea. Instead he conceived the wide left hook around the Solomons merely to enable Takagi to surprise Townsville, while his own land-based air (Base Air Force) covered Rabaul and the Louisiades. Equally important, Inoue expected no carrier opposition until the MO Operation was nearly completed.22

It took most of April for Inoue’s scattered forces to assemble, delayed in particular because of the fruitless pursuit of the Tokyo raiders. Hara’s 5th Carrier Division reached Truk on 25 April, Takagi’s 5th Cruiser Division two days later. Promoted to vice admiral effective 1 May, Takagi was a submarine specialist who made the transition to capital ships in 1937. He achieved flag rank in November 1938 at the tender age of forty-six and received the 5th Cruiser Division in September 1941. Victor of the Battle of the Java Sea (27 February–1 March 1942), he was dismayed that Tokyo soon questioned his decisions. Totally inexperienced in carrier operations because his cruisers did not operate with Nagumo’s Kidō Butai, the careful and unassertive Takagi was a safe, if uninspired, choice to lead MO Striking Force. At age fifty-three the burly Hara was a surface warfare expert. Dubbed “King Kong,” he made his reputation as a fiery staff officer in China and with Naval General Staff before rising to rear admiral in November 1939. In September 1941 he formed the 5th Carrier Division and led it against Pearl Harbor, Rabaul, and in the Indian Ocean. Neither Hara nor his carrier captains, Yokogawa Ichihei of the Zuikaku and the Shōkaku’s Jōjima Takaji, were aviators. The relatively pliant Takagi led MO Striking Force from a cruiser. Lacking staff officers familiar with air operations, he delegated full control of carrier air to Hara, subject to consultation. Thus Hara exerted far more influence on general events in his task force than did Fitch in TF-17.23

Hara vehemently protested the planned strikes on Australia, not because he anticipated immediate carrier opposition, but from concern the strong Allied land-based air would certainly detect his approach. He also worried that coral reefs off Australia would severely hamper his mobility and that having only the one fleet oiler would limit the radius of his destroyers. Takagi evidently concurred, but nevertheless included the Townsville scenario in his operation order. Hara’s loud complaints, combined with a false sighting on 27 April of a supposed carrier southeast of Rabaul, reopened the debate in Truk and Tokyo over the early presence of U.S. carriers. On 29 April Inoue authorized Takagi to cancel the Townsville strike if he thought he would not achieve surprise. That same day Yamamoto settled the matter by directing MO Striking Force to suspend all attacks on the Australian mainland and instead remain watchful for enemy carriers. Therefore on the thirtieth Inoue reluctantly called off the carrier strikes against Townsville, Cooktown, and Port Moresby and looked to Base Air Force to assume the crucial task of neutralizing enemy land-based air forces. As part of this new policy he directed Takagi to transport nine Zero fighters from Truk to reinforce Rabaul, but Hara must use his own pilots to fly those planes to Rabaul and also retrieve them. That seemingly simple ferry mission, only a footnote to the overall plan, would cause profound repercussions.24

By midnight on 30 April–1 May, the stage was set for a major confrontation in the Coral Sea. Aside from the Port Moresby invasion convoy, the principal task forces had either gone to sea or were just about to sail. Japanese auxiliary ships already plied the upper Solomons setting up the initial bases. Shima’s Tulagi Invasion Force steamed southeast from Rabaul, while Gotō’s MO Main Force departed Truk on the thirtieth. Takagi’s MO Striking Force was set to follow on the first. Far to the southeast in the eastern Coral Sea, Fletcher’s TF-17 and Fitch’s TF-11 were just a few hours apart. Both sides began the battle with illusions that could prove fatal. Inoue serenely assumed he had the jump on the Allies and would have his forces in position before they could react. His MO Operation depended on intricate timing and close coordination of widely separated task forces. An unexpected glitch or surprise attack could disrupt the whole schedule and imperil the individual detachments. Inoue never dreamt that the Allies, warned by a vast breach of radio security, had already deployed two carriers at the entrance to the Coral Sea nearly a week earlier than anticipated. Such powerful adversaries could catch the South Seas Force with its guard down before MO Striking Force completed its sweep south around the Solomons. In turn Fletcher, cued by superb radio intelligence, focused on the Louisiades and the developing threat to Port Moresby but did not appreciate the danger to Tulagi. Lacking an effective shore-based search, he had no inkling of Takagi’s “left hook” from east of the Solomons. For his own part, Fletcher had little hope he could avoid the active enemy search network. TF-17 must pitch straight in and fight. The side that survived these initial mistakes and profited most from the other’s errors would win the battle.